The Ones Which Bite Back
by FreezePride
Summary: Characters: Zexion, Lexaeus. Zexion has always played carefully, but he has found a point at which he has crossed the line. It was time he was put in his place. [heavy implications of LexZex]


The silence was absolutely deafening. It crashed in the shadows, rung in his ears, jarred his frame and toyed with his speedy mind. It was terrible. This was not the easy silence which usually pervaded their meetings, it was not the grateful, comfort which he usually found within his counterpart. No, this was something undefined, something so hard to place when he even lacked the heart with which to define these quasi-emotions. There were certainly sensations which he could register though, Zexion reflected as he reluctantly let the book slip from his grasp and on to the side table, letting Lexaeus garner his full attention.

His study was deathly still as the moment between them held it's bated breath. The Silent Hero stared down at him, still dressed in his training gear, as though he had rushed to be there, only to be met with Zexion's inquisitive quirk of a brow. His royal eyes narrowed, hardened to be nigh black in color in an almost animalistic intensity. Zexion had never been on the receiving end of that look before, because frankly, it was simply not done between the two of them. They understood one another in perfect sync. There was never a question of misunderstandings between them. As it was currently, he was getting nothing from the Silent Hero and that was simply unheard of.

But this look was something unreadable, cold and unrelenting as stone itself. With a slow, and increasing uneasiness he recognized what his empty core was trying to tell him what he would be, or rather should be feeling.

Fear.

Zexion had seen Lexaeus fixate his enemies with that sort of look, before he tore them apart, wordlessly, for a crime they may or may have not known that they committed, based on Zexion's obvious justifications. He needed nothing more than the Schemer's word, he reflected with a swell of pride and a delayed notion that things were slowly turning around.

"Lexaeus." He cooed. Lexaeus didn't move.

"Why?" He rumbled in response. It was not a question, it was a demand. He wasn't inquiring in the slightest, he wanted an answer and he wanted it immediately. The expectation was soft, low and so threatening, Zexion was taken aback. Perhaps it said something about his plotting tendencies that he was genuinely unsure of which scheme Lexaeus may have found out about that was causing his ire, his wrath, but there was absolute betrayal in his eyes and the prodigy could not help but feel intrigued.

Judging by the clench of his fist, the exiting of the training arena, and the darkness which raged behind his very words, the Schemer could deduce more than most about his own predicament. It had been his threat to Xaldin as an illusion of Lexaeus. Without a doubt, it was the breaking off of that ridiculous brotherhood of his. It had been all too simple; he had been expecting some sort of backlash any time now.

"I was simply doing you a favor. What do you need that fool for anyway? And you never did have the heart to send him packing." Zexion commented easily, with all of the fluid carelessness that he was certainly not idiotic enough to actually believe. His mind was sending warning signs like it was nobody's business. Lexaeus was not reacting, his deadened eyes still locked on to his self-proclaimed 'leader'. He did not blink, he did not move, he did not even breath. For all Zexion knew, he had turned to stone somewhere along the lines and none had dared to question a man quite that powerful, or to challenge his strength.

A small thrill shook his being to the core, the sort of excitement akin to when one holds a weapon within their control which was far more powerful than even themselves. Who would dare oppose him once Lexaeus was undoubtedly his? Yes, he was insulted right now, but he would learn to forgive, to forget. His mind was so easily manipulated after all, Zexion reflected. He always had the Schemer's best interests in mind and he would never-

It had all happened so quickly that Zexion's breath caught in his throat. Frankly, it was a testament to the giant's skill, and to the Schemer's short-sightedness when it came to his own hubris. Either way, the Silent Hero had closed the space between them in a fraction of a second. His massive battle axe was drawn, more as a warning, for it was uselessly pointed at the ground before he drove it into the flooring with a heavy crunch that split the tiles of the library as though it were paper. He knelt down to render himself eye level with the schemer, holding his gaze with those utterly unreadable dark blue eyes of his own, giving away nothing but absolute heinous anger which he felt.

Zexion froze, astounded, shocked, unbelieving. He had seen the man act this way before. It portended nothing good. He swallowed hard, concentrating with all his might on keeping his hands from quivering.

"Zexion, I am your guardian." Calm. So deceptively comforting, recognizable. Stronger men than himself have enjoyed the honor of having their skulls smashed in after hearing that low, soothing tone. In a beat of a moment, he thought of calling for help, but truly who would hear before he was silenced? And if one even did hear, who could possibly hope to defeat Lexaeus? It was like asking someone to destroy a mountain; it was absolutely futile. His unbeatable weapon had backfired. He was trapped. He had overstepped himself grossly, and after knowing Aeleus all of his life, he did not recognize the violent man before him.

"I am not your servant. I am not your pet." In a frozen, tense second, he straightened slowly, measuredly, almost daring Zexion to challenge him, to come up with some snarky comment to dissuade him, to push him just that hint farther and ask to be beaten senseless, but the prodigy in question sat in stunned silence, clutching the arms to his chair, thinking that no distraction would be able to erase the fear from this evening. Lexaeus withdrew his heavy, blunted axe with a practiced ease. He could have simply let it fade to darkness. There was no need for him to brandish it so easily as though it weighed a pittance as he stepped slowly away to the door. There was really no need shoot Zexion a meaningfully threatening glare before he exited, yet he did. Zexion paused, waited for what felt like an eternity.

And then he laughed.

Alone in the darkness, giddy with an adrenaline and a mixture of fear and happiness, he knew, without a doubt, that the most exciting sorts of pets to own, were the ones which bit back.


End file.
